tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51259796079271720672024-02-19T04:37:39.180-08:00REFLECTIONS ON FAITHFor those seeking strength, faith, and wisdom in these times, from someone who's just as stumped as you are. Guided by Christian thought, but in no way beholden to it. Comments and fellowship are welcome.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-63679476706285478482011-09-30T06:38:00.000-07:002011-09-30T06:38:13.994-07:00I face a difficult decision, whether I want to move to Mott Haven, an area of the South Bronx, with some Christians who appear to be very alive, very focused in their energy towards reforming the world in Christian love, or stay here, in an area that is comfortable, that is easier and more convenient, for many of my activities. I know exactly what I am called to do in my faith. The only caveats would be that I am not very much interested in having a windowless room, or a room that others are going to be walking through. The only way I could imagine it could work is if indeed my room was the living room area, and we created some kind of curtain or divider so that it was my private space.<br />
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Even doing this, I fear I'd be unhappy after a short time. I fear that I'd grow resentful and angry towards my roommates' intrusions, when I was trying to concentrate, or something like that. Then again, I also know that I get my energy from being around others, so perhaps there'd be a way to make that work.<br />
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I am honestly very divided on this; I would want to be able to make it last at least a while. And if it didn't, I guess I fear that I'd have to go somewhere that was even less appealing than what I have now.<br />
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Is there a way to be amongst these people more often without moving there for now? Hmm. Their Bible study times, and their prayer times in the early morning, are accessible if I want to do it-- I need some time to think it over.<br />
-DanDaniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-76919741100707751752011-09-07T08:54:00.001-07:002011-09-07T08:54:39.485-07:00GREAT REFLECTION FROM SACRED SPACEThe God who is before me, who looks at me, calls out to me. God raises me up, so that I can become truly myself, the one I am meant to be. ‘I have called you by your name, you are mine’ (Isaiah 47:1). Now, in that calling, there is also God’s challenge to me: the challenge to emerge from shadows and darkness, to enter more fully into truthfulness, and live in the light. The holiness and truth of the God of love challenges me in this way. The prophet Ezechiel realised this especially. At a time of destruction in Jerusalem and ensuing exile, Ezechiel was called to absorb the burning word of God, and speak to the devastated people, to raise them up, and bring them back to a renewed living of faith. He saw himself therefore as a sentry or watchman to the House of Israel (Ezechiel 3:17-21; 33: 7-9). And so it is today. We are called forth to live in the light, to abide by the truth – the light and truth of God. So whenever I hear someone calling out prophetically in this way, then their challenge is also a blessing for me. And in my own heart, in my prayer, the Lord who is present before me also calls me forth, to live with integrity, and truth, and love. Indeed, the whole course of my life, and the challenges facing me in it, might be summed up by those words inscribed on the memorial tablet of Blessed John Henry Newman (1801-90), ‘Ex umbris et imaginibus in Veritatem.’ - ‘Out of the shadows and images and into the Truth’.<br />
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.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-17955203437181175462011-07-27T14:17:00.000-07:002011-07-27T14:38:14.154-07:00Is the Tree of Life a "religious" film?<span class="st"><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/religion">RELIGION</a>- a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies...</span><br />
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<span class="st">A few nights ago, I was at an East Village bar with some friends and we started giving our take on Terrence Malick's love-it or hate-it epic The Tree of Life. When someone mentioned that it depicts the creation of the universe, Sharon, a young photographer, asked, "Is it a religious film?" her friend Mike immediately said, "No" as if that very idea would be insulting. "No no," Mike said, "Malick's background is in philosophy, guys like Heidegger and all that. He's into asking metaphysical questions."</span><br />
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<span class="st">I now think that Mike was way off, and that the Tree of Life is an intensely religious film. It's just not necessarily a very Christian film, or at least what one might expect of that label.</span><br />
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"The Tree of Life" <span class="st">is about a Christian family in the 1950s, as remembered by their eldest son Jack (played by Hunter McCracken.) Christianity is a huge part of the family's life, though each parent emphasizes different aspects of religion . Mother (Jessica Chastain) raises her sons to live with grace, love and selflessness, while The Father (Brad Pitt) demands discipline and obedience and teaches them to be suspicious of the evil in the world. That conflict brews confusion and resentment in the children, over how they ought live.</span><br />
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<span class="st">Above all this is the central question hovering over the film, which is the question at the heart of every religion. It's the question we ask when we go to church, synagogue or mosque, when we kneel down to pray, or when burdens fall on us-"Where is God?"</span> <br />
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<span class="st">This is the question that haunts Jack as he grows up in a home supposedly infused by Christianity but filled with violence and fear. It's what his mother demands to know when one of her sons dies. It's what his father fears to ask as he watches his dreams start to crumble. </span><br />
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Where the film loses its Christian thread is when Malick tries to answer the question. Instead of somehow making a case for Christianity, Malick argues that God is all around us, in creation. To make the point, he starts the film with a graphic showing God's words to Job: <br />
"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?..When the morning stars sang together, And all the sons of God shouted for joy?" JOB 38:4-7<br />
He then follows this with a film version of the beginning of the Genesis story: 25 minutes showing the creation of the cosmos, set to a background of hyms and requiems.<br />
However just like God's response to Job, Malick's answer is unsatisfying. Showing the divinity of creation doesn't answer WHY God allows us to suffer, why he allows evil in the world and good people to be punished. And when Malick tries to go further, showing images of an "Earth Mother" reaching out to The Mother in grief, or a beach where all people from all time meet, his images become as vague and frustrating as they are beautiful. <br />
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In the end, the Tree of Life works best as a coming-of-age story, as Jack struggles to grow from both his father's fearful discipline and his mother's selfless grace. His bigger questions about the presence of God are definitely worth asking, but Malick's answers seem so far outside the lives of his characters that they ring untrue to the story. <br />
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Even with its imperfections, though, The Tree Of Life remains one of the most visually stunning and affecting films I've ever seen. It absolutely will leave you frustrated with unanswered questions about the nature of God and the universe, but the very fact that I could leave the film in that state is proof of its power.<br />
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I have walked out of church on Sunday on many occasions, feeling numb, my mind on brunch or the afternoon's activities. Many pastors spend a lifetime trying to get their congregations to leave their doors with an impassioned curiosity about God and humanity. Malick has accomplished that here, along with creating a visual masterpiece. <object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,47,0" height="436" id="flashObj" width="404"><param name="movie" value="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f9?isVid=1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="flashVars" value="videoId=995363014001&playerID=1813626064&playerKey=AQ~~,AAAAAF1BIQQ~,g5cZB_aGkYZXG-DCZXT7a-c4jcGaSdDQ&domain=embed&dynamicStreaming=true" /><param name="base" value="http://admin.brightcove.com" /><param name="seamlesstabbing" value="false" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="swLiveConnect" value="true" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><embed src="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f9?isVid=1" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashVars="videoId=995363014001&playerID=1813626064&playerKey=AQ~~,AAAAAF1BIQQ~,g5cZB_aGkYZXG-DCZXT7a-c4jcGaSdDQ&domain=embed&dynamicStreaming=true" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="404" height="436" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true" swLiveConnect="true" allowScriptAccess="always" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed></object>Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-38133866174390860532011-07-01T16:21:00.000-07:002011-07-01T16:21:11.125-07:00The Spirit moves at the Wild Goose festivalThis weekend, I traveled with my house church, Transmission, to the Wild Goose Festival, a Christian social justice and arts event in North Carolina near Raleigh. I didn’t know what to expect: I was mostly going to get away from New York and enjoy some nature. I was astounded by what I received. Over 3 days, some 50 hours of total programming, there were at least three to five different events happening at every waking hour. <br />
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I slept little with all the activity, yet amazingly, no matter how sleep-deprived, sweaty or exhausted I got, I was never cranky. By the end of the first talk I attended on Friday, I could feel a quiet energy, a kind of spiritual adrenaline, coursing through me. I found myself feeling like a freshman student, eager to soak in all the experience I could, and Wild Goose was eager to feed me.<br />
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The festival offered new energy for my spiritual and political beliefs, along with intellectual challenges, great conversation, and awesome music. All within the beautiful Shakori Hills farm, where blue skies and starry nights made for a gorgeous weekend.<br />
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The farm was divided into several different spots: a large main stage and lawn for concerts, several big tents for popular speakers, a coffeehouse or “coffee barn” for poetry readings and small group discussion, and smaller tents for art and writing workshops, and various Christian causes looking to recruit volunteers. My favorite spaces were the Social Justice Gazebo discussion space, and the Spiritual Direction Trolley Car. That one was supposedly a spot for individual counseling, but it spent most of the weekend as a jungle gym for the little kids.<br />
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The festival attracted a wide swath of personalities: teenagers, college kids, families with newborns, elderly couples, straight, gay and trans, and plenty of tattoos and piercings along with Bibles and crosses. However, the turnout was also rather racially uniform, aside from a few speakers from minority races. <br />
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It was harder to tell if those present represented the country’s variety of political views: all I know for sure is the presentations sure didn’t. The talks all had a progressive bent, looking at HOW to move on the agenda, rather than what our agenda ought to be in the first place. At one point, my friend Isaac remarked that if we were truly being all-inclusive that there would be at least one talk on whether homosexuality was a sin to match all the talks on LGBT equality. <br />
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However, I needed the nourishment the festival offered, even in its uniformly progressive tone. As the saying goes, you may be preaching to the choir, but sometimes the choir needs to hear some good preaching!<br />
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It was great to see firebrands like Shane Claiborne, Tony Campolo and Jim Forbes stirring up the crowds, calling for a reflection on our nation’s and our churches’ priorities. I also discovered new voices like Mark Scandrette and Carl McColman, who preached respectively on how small group experiments and contemplation can fuel our justice efforts. <br />
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Among the mostly comforting and energizing talks, there were only a few truly provocative moments. Brandon Sipes gave a challenging talk about avoiding adversarial relationships even with those we consider oppressors; he discussed the difficulties of reaching out to American military members even when angered by their actions. I was impressed by how grounded Sipes was in experiencing the shades of grey of modern politics, and how difficult it can be to label who our enemies are.<br />
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The most provocative and contentious discussion was led by Tony Jones, a radical Christian apologist, who hosted a talk called “Why Pray?” Jones argued that our usual motives for praying to God - either changing God’s mind or trying to effect changes in ourselves -- don’t hold up under scrutiny. The first doesn’t seem to work in daily life (prayers go unanswered all the time) and the second isn’t in line what Jesus taught. <br />
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Jones managed to both challenge and somewhat annoy just about everyone present by insisting on the need for a rational apologist argument for prayer. Among the many challenges to his claims, there was one I loved. An older gentleman said that Jones’ question reminded him of when his young daughter had once asked the purpose of he and his wife making love. He replied, “There’s no reason. We just do it because we love each other.” And so with prayer. <br />
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Unlike other big moments in my spiritual life, I didn’t have any one great spiritual high at Wild Goose, no one discernible moment where I heard God speak to me. However, what I experienced here was just as important: the miraculous power of the spirit moving his people gathered together. All of us hungry, all of us open, all eager to find better ways to love and love deeply our God and neighbor.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-16764720159369870162011-02-15T19:21:00.000-08:002011-02-15T19:34:50.036-08:00A good challengeTonight I visited with the Community of Communities, a network of small groups and interdenominational progressive churches in the city. The meeting tonight was to plan social justice activities around Lent, the idea being that we would take certain themes for the six weeks, like poverty, education, immigration reform, sex trafficking, or health issues, and try to pray, reflect and take some kind of action on those issues each week.<br />In truth, I felt like there were some good ideas, but overall I was tired by it, especially the introduction where each of us was asked to think about an injustice we were witnessing in the city. Maybe it was just because I hadn't eaten much dinner, but somehow hearing 30 people each talk about the injustice they were seeing was exhausting to me. I felt like there was little inspiration in what I heard.<br />There was one gentleman, James Macklin, a preacher and worker with the Bowery Mission, who I found inspiring. He spoke about coming out of homelessness himself, and about how homelessness can best be fought, one person at a time, one soul at a time making it whole. And I was struck by him, his attitude and conviction.<br />At times, the meeting scared me a bit also in how convinced people were about the power of Christ to make a difference. I know that sounds bizarre, but I guess some part of me is incredibly suspicious or guarded these days about people speaking of the power of Christ in our lives. I don't know what I'm expecting them to do, but as soon as the topic turned to abortion, I knew I was expecting for people to be saying abortions should be illegal.<br />Yet within the audience there were clearly those who knew that abortion was a sensitive topic for people, and they made it clear that the first priority was building bridges rather than burning them. <br /><br />What was most disturbing though for me happened during the closing. As we did our closing prayers, the people praying started using that ecstatic tone that I fear. That "Father God we just open our hearts father God to you Lord yes Jesus we need you Father God to lead us Father God to the true way Lord Jesus..."that repetition, that pounding out, that emphatic pulsating rhythm that for some people is a great way to come into the spirit of the Lord, but for me leads to panic. My heart starts beating fast and I feel like I can't breathe. I've felt the same way since the first times I experienced it back in college: I can't explain why, but it's in me. I guess next time I'll just have to be ready for it if it happens again. (Or leave before they start.)<br /><br />I pray that God will help me see the cynicism and jadedness within me and begin to melt it. Even though sometimes these things seem like survival skills for life in the city, I know they are tools, just like any emotional tool, that have their place, but that also must be put away at times. And I pray that God will help me sit with those whose style of prayer is so much different than mine, and who indeed scare me with their fervency. I pray that I might better understand that they are indeed looking for very much the same connection I'd like, but only seeking it in a very different way.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-74299682888127801112011-01-13T20:50:00.000-08:002011-01-13T21:05:55.203-08:00THE ONE THING THAT MUST BE ASKEDAmid the many questions emerging after the tragedy in Arizona, there's only one that keeps on coming back to me: how can someone who was told he could not return to his school until he'd had a mental health evaluation have the legal ability to then go and purchase a Glock 9 mm semiautomatic, let alone any kind of gun?<br /><br />I do not oppose gun rights. In fact, one of the men who helped tackle Jared Loughner, Joe Zamudio, said his handgun made him feel more confident to go back into the mall and help stop Loughner. But the complete lack of background checks for mental health or flags from police or the local community before purchasing an assault weapon is to me astounding.<br /><br />When asked about whether he'd favor stricter gun control laws after the incident, Mitch McConnell said in Kentucky that Loughner would have gone ahead with his violence regardless of the weapon. However, it seems obvious that the amount of lives lost and injuries done, as well as the potential violence that didn't happen, would have been far lessened if this man had been checked and logically barred from purchasing assault weapons.<br /><br />Loughner in my mind is now a poster child for a thorough background check before the sale of assault weapons. I would hope those who believe in gun rights also see that public safety is best served by having people's background checked before such purchases. Given the power of these weapons to easily take so many lives, it seems a reasonable request of the public.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-5276290916160560862010-10-24T22:29:00.000-07:002010-10-24T22:30:38.732-07:00REFLECTIONS ON THE CLASS WARGiven what’s going on in the world today, I feel compelled to say that Marx had a lot of things right. It seems ever more evident that we are dividing here into the haves and the have nots, and those classes are at war. Not all the haves are fighting the have nots, but there are enough out there doing so, fighting for their own good, that the have nots are losing out. <br /><br /><br />As I hear about Haiti losing its industries because of pressure to buy cheaper exports from abroad, and the same thing happening in the US, killing many of our industries with the influx of Chinese products, I think to myself that with globalization, international inherited debt, unregulated speculation, and tax favoritism towards the wealthy, we are creating a world where the wealthy will survive while the middle class will work either till death or until they are no longer able to work. And the poor will turn to violence, while struggling with disease, ignorance, bad health, imprisonment, drugs, teen pregnancy, pollution of every form, and the rest of us will try to avoid them as best we can, cordon ourselves off from them. And the chief measure of wealth will be whether one is truly able to cordon themselves off from poverty or not. <br /><br />Do I sound hopeless? I am relatively hopeless, after what I’ve seen. Jon Stewart said in that book forum that life has improved so much for many of us, in no longer “drinking from the water we once shitted in” and such. And yes, many things have improved. There is no longer child labor in the United States. There is public education. Our police are relatively reliable. Women can vote. All people can vote. And I can walk down the street with a black girlfriend and marry a black woman, without starting a riot. And we have elected a black man for the first time to an office that used to be all white.<br /><br />There have been some improvements, and many of them have trickled down to the poor. Maybe part of my cynicism comes in comparing our current America not so much to the America that Stewart spoke of the early 1900s, but to the America of the 1950s, where there was a strong middle class base. Is the cup half empty or full? For the unemployed person without health insurance or a pension, I’d say it’s completely empty. And the philosophical approach that Mr. Stewart can afford to take is justifiable in one sense, but unhelpful to that unemployed worker who’s wondering what happened to the American Dream- work hard, get a pension, retire and watch your grandchildren grow up.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-35069311704817760822010-08-16T03:36:00.000-07:002010-08-16T08:03:27.648-07:00The imam and the Ramadan fastOn Saturday night, I visited the Islamic Center of Mid-Manhattan looking to learn more about the fast of Ramadan, a month-long fast that goes on daily from sunrise to sundown.<br /><br />As someone who's never fasted for longer than a day, the Ramadan fast fascinates me. Putting aside food, water, and any kind of nutrition between sunrise and sundown for a month already seems a difficult task. Add to that the heat of New York in August and the demanding work schedules of so many in the city and it seems an insufferable one. I imagine many Muslims working two jobs to get by, taxi drivers, parking attendants, having to take up this cross, so to speak, and I wonder how they get by.<br /><br />I contacted Sheikh Amed Dewidar, imam of the Islamic Center, and he agreed to meet me on Saturday evening at the center. It's a 5-floor mosque nestled into a narrow space on E. 55th Street. You could easily pass it by without noticing, as it's sandwiched between a parking garage and restaurants. The sign above the doors is plain and unobtrusive, without any awnings or artwork.<br /><br />I entered and walked down a long green and white-tiled hallway, while a speaker system sent out a soothing adhan, the Muslim prayer song. Instantly I felt transported off the windy Manhattan streets into something far warmer.<br /><br />Sheikh Ahmed, a tall dark-haired Egyptian with a wide smile and well-groomed beard, told me that the Ramadan fast is a way for Muslims to strengthen their self-discipline and resolve against temptation and deprivation. People can get used to having easy access to food, water and other needs, he told me, but they must be prepared in case they lose these provisions.<br /><br />He illustrated his point with a parable: a wealthy prince decides he wants to go for a hunt in the wild. However, he has absolutely no previous experience roughing it and fending for himself. So he makes sure to equip Land Rovers with food and water and an ambulance with supplies should he find himself suffering at all.<br /><br />The prince goes out into the desert on his own for the hunt, but soon after he enters the wilderness, a sandstorm comes along and he loses contact with all his support vehicles. Soon he is all alone in the wild, with no food, water or support. If he has had no training for this moment, how is he to cope? In that moment, he must rely on his own discipline and faith, which is what Ramadan is meant to strengthen.<br /><br />I asked about whether Ramadan is more difficult here in the States than in Muslim countries, since Muslims will encounter many here who are not taking part in their fast. The imam suggested that on the contrary, the sight of others not taking part in the fast could strengthen a Muslim's resolve. "It reminds you of the uniqueness of what you're doing," he said, "that you are doing something special for Allah."<br /><br />After our discussion , the imam invited me to join him and his colleagues for Iftar, the breaking of the fast after sundown. First an appetizer of dates and milk, and then a filling dinner of cubed beef, rice pilaf and salad, with mango nectar. Certainly a nice way to end the Saturday fast, but I wonder about those people who again are going between two different jobs or hardly have time to prepare such a meal. How do they make sure they can sustain themselves through the month?Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-35379422340000203532010-07-18T05:24:00.000-07:002010-07-18T05:38:26.228-07:00A conflict between therapy and faithThe new book I'm reading "Anger: How to Live With It and Without It" presents many good ideas about how to deal with an old and lingering problem in my life, the presence of anger that at times gives way to rage, especially when I see someone getting away with breaking rules or bullying people.<br /><br />However, one of the concepts in the book is that in order to get rid of one's anger, one has to get rid of the "shoulds" in life. People who do bad things "should" be punished. I "should" have a better job and kids, or I "deserve" the best because I work hard. These are what psychologist Albert Ellis calls Irrational Beliefs, or IB's for short that we had better to dissolve if we are going to be able to work with our anger.<br /><br />Ellis claims that for Rational Emotive Behavioral Therapy or REBT to work, you need to believe that you "absolutely should" do NOTHING. "You have only to exist as you do and live your life as best you can. If you can learn to accept yourself unconditionally, with your handicaps and your other problems, and if you can learn to live with difficulties when you cannot improve them, you may consider yourself well-adjusted." <br /><br />The idea of NO SHOULDS in life though is a tough one for me as a Christian. I feel I've been raised with so many "shoulds" about the kind of student I SHOULD be, the kind of Christian God wants me to be, the behavior I should follow, that Ellis' more morally relative commandment is a bit difficult. <br /><br />However, I know part of my current anger and dissatisfaction in life is due to a belief that I DESERVE better than to suffer the slings and arrows of frequent back pain, psychological problems, boring household chores, long trips on subways, and years worth of school debt. I DESERVE better because I am a better man, and I SHOULD be doing better than this. And then I begin looking for where it went wrong, what I did wrong. <br /><br />To abandon the word "deserve" is a big step. If a "child of God" deserves nothing, in essence, then what's the point of following the rules? The only solution is that in the Christian lifestyle is a formula for living my life as best I can, but that lifestyle still seems to create so many "shoulds" that Ellis' therapeutic guidance and my faith seem like they're going to clash.<br /><br />Any ideas?Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-70448177778810546492010-06-20T20:09:00.000-07:002010-06-20T20:32:06.529-07:00Too much God better than too littleTonight's service was another example of the frustrations and strange wonders of Calvary Episcopal. I arrived worn out and wanting to just sit down and rest, and at first, the music seemed overdone. Then Rev. Brewer's sermon on the Gospel reading about "those who want to save their lives will lose them, but those who lose their lives for my sake shall save them." Brewer talked about the death of self as what God is demanding of us, to bring us into a greater relationship with him.<br />Actually, I think even Rev. Jacob realized that Brewer's words were too much and added afterwards, "Along with the demand for death is the promise of resurrection in Him, and new life."<br /><br />I felt a bit overpowered by the sermon, as usual, but still something about the church spoke to me tonight as it has been for a long time. When I stand in that church, and raise my head to look into the buttresses in the ceilings, I find myself LISTENING to the quiet. In the silence, where previously I might have found myself looking for sound and noise, instead I find myself listening to the silence, longing for it, because I feel there is something calling me there.<br /><br />Likewise, I felt called to be prayed for after taking communion, yet I had no idea what I wanted to say, and in fact didn't really have anything to say at all. I just bowed my head and asked for a blessing, which Katie, one of the church members, gave freely and wonderfully.<br /><br />And I left church smiling like the cat that found the...wait what's that expression? Well, I left smiling. Listening to the night on 5th Avenue, my head lifted, taking it in. It's a powerful thing to actually feel like you're being called, and I'm doing my best to listen.<br /><br />So yet again, in spite of my own frustrations and occasional wondering of what brings me there, Calvary has caught me once more. Something is calling me there and speaking to me, and I am enraptured by whatever it is. And that state is so rare these days, that sense of wonder and awe. I consider it a gift. And I thank God for it.<br /><br />The song tonight that struck me most was "Here in Your Presence," for obvious reasons. You can find the song by New Life Worship <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Here-In-Your-Presence/dp/B00137TKQO">here.</a>Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-44483009594837391702010-05-16T18:37:00.000-07:002010-05-16T19:02:03.020-07:00Back from God knows whereTonight I decided to return to Calvary Episcopal. After a good month or so of either St. Lydia's or nothing, I returned. St. Lydia's was for the most part a pretty tame service, and by that I mean that it had little effect other than a sense of comfort and a little conversation.<br /><br />Calvary has done something different. I am singing louder and deeper than I have at any service in months. These songs, largely in a more evangelical style where a projection screen displays the lyrics behind the musician, and songs that are relatively easy to pick up off just a few chords, are bringing something to the surface for me. It begins with some sense of trying to follow the words, then eventually I begin to find the emotion within the music. And in each song, the theme is the exact same: love and the power and glory of God. And the words are so simple.<br /><br />This morning at Patrick's church in Astoria, the wording of the Nicene Creed seemed so stiff and formal: "He rose again in accordance with the scriptures." Umm, sounds like you're talking about a biology experiment, rather than the resurrection of God! And the songs are often so much more high-mass style.<br /><br />Will high-mass style ever die out?<br /><br />During communion, I went and was prayed for by a gentleman named C.J. I told him that a relationship I was in had recently ended, and the desperation I felt afterwards had shown me the lack of a foundation I had in my faith. He prayed for me, getting louder as the music got louder, and I felt overwhelmed. As I went back to my site, I was nearly in tears and as the end of the service came, I choked back tears. <br /><br />I think there are times at which I've felt this church's message of God's love, and the need to surrender to Christ to at times be a bit of a mental assault, that it was too demanding in all its talk of Christ's blood, the visceralness of the words. Yet at the same time, I have felt God more consistently here, had that encounter in more than almost any church I've visited, perhaps more so than in Transmission as well at times. (I haven't yet come away from Transmission crying, but that day may come...)<br /><br />It's time for bed, but I feel like I'm ending on a high note what started out as a tough weekend. Thanks be to God.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-8420984075588109532010-01-10T19:12:00.000-08:002010-01-10T19:21:18.631-08:00WHEN WE STOP SEEKINGI skipped church tonight. I was tired of Reverend Brewer's tone and I felt I would go in and be annoyed again tonight. However, a funny thing happened. In going to the gym and staying at home tonight, I feel a bit of a vacuum within me, a lack. Even though I have felt anger at my pastor's sermons recently, there remains something important to the act of going in and sharing in communal worship that I have missed this week. <br />I truly believe in doing God's work, in the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats, that God is in the lowly people and our job is to care for the needy and work for justice. No wonder I feel so far off-course: I spend my day in a corporate job, am not doing any volunteer work and my preoccupations are with the debt that I've accrued myself, rather than the needs of others. <br />Lord, I pray that though I harbor anger or pain sometimes at how some profess their faith, that that anger may never get in the way of my seeking you out. I've heard it written, "You would never have sought me had you not already found me," and it's true. I have experienced enough of your grace that I continue to seek you out. Let me not become complacent in a life absent of you, but rather walk on seeking to do your work and live in your sacred communities, whether it is a church, a friendship, or simply that moment where I have an exchange with a homeless man on the corner asking for change.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-68944821566161207412010-01-01T19:55:00.000-08:002010-01-01T20:58:54.624-08:00CAFETERIA CHRISTIAN"Cafeteria Catholic" was a nickname I often heard as a kid for more liberal Catholics. It meant people who obeyed only the Catholic rules they liked and ignored the others, like students on a cafeteria line picking out lunch. Inherent in the derisive term was the notion that an ideal Catholic, or Christian for that matter, should listen and obey all of Jesus' teachings.<br /><br />However, as I get older, I realize that almost all of us are "Cafeteria Christians." Most of us do not consider it adultery for couples to divorce and marry others. We don't see it a sin for a widow to remarry. We see the complexity of relationships and the difficulties in them, the fact that sometimes they don't work. We don't expect the woman to completely submit in a relationship either.<br /><br />We don't automatically condemn the wealthy to hell, even though we've heard Jesus say plainly that it'd be harder for a camel to pass through a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven.<br /><br />There are those who say we must follow the Bible to the letter, but even they usually decide how much of the Gospel to adhere to based on their values.<br /><br />I think most Christians today have a somewhat tense relationship with Jesus' advice : on the one hand we revere Jesus as the son of God, but we, and I think everyone, have times when his words put us ill at ease. So we practice selective obedience.<br /><br />Do we betray our faith by not following it to the letter?<br /><br />Have we sworn an oath to obey every word?<br /><br />I think of the words that I speak in every mass, which include believing in Jesus Christ as the son of God, and God himself. And that God is first and foremost my Father. But do I swear allegiance to his every word? No. I swear humility and reverence to the words, but never complete obedience.<br /><br /><br />As children, we are advised to listen to our parents' advice and learn from it, as the words of those who want the best for us. However, as we mature, we combine that advice with other realities, other experiences, and we go our own course. We build our own beautiful lives, and we disobey, not out of hatred, but out of our natural need to determine our own destiny. Chalk it up to original sin, if you want, but it is in our nature to seek our own truth.<br /><br />So what am I saying? I'm saying that I don't think being Christian means I need to aspire to complete obedience of every one of my Father's edicts.<br /><br /><br />Instead, I ask my Father to understand, as a loving father would, that every child must become an adult and pave his own way, taking their creator's advice with thanks, considering it seriously, with love and respect, and applying it as best we see fit in the lives we live.<br />This manner of acting isn't always encouraged in our church: sometimes I feel like the clergy do not acknowledge the maturity of the laity. It often seems like we are talked to more like infants, and if we would just shut up and suck on our Father's bosom, everything will be fine.<br /><br /><br />That kind of treatment can only work for so long. When I visit my father's house, I hope to find love, comfort and encouragement, and give the same. I will always be proud to be God's child, but I would hope he would no longer expect the mindless love of an infant.<br /><br /><br />So yes, I am a cafeteria Christian. I pick and choose the advice I take with me on my way forward, with love and reverence, but not always agreement. I would hope my Father wishes me well on my journey, and that like the Prodigal son, in the end I well be welcomed back home.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-53616550851590490762009-12-20T18:03:00.000-08:002009-12-20T18:17:10.718-08:00Dear God,<br />I'm angry at you tonight. And I think being angry makes perfectly good sense. My mother is obsessive compulsive, bipolar and right now struggling with a skin disease all over her body. My sister is in rehab, and miserable towards me very often. I no longer wish to be living here, nor to be doing the work that I'm doing. And I am only getting by sometimes through perseverance, through grace.<br />I feel like I fucked up my life by going to NYU and taking on loans my second year. I'll be in debt over 30,000 and climbing for years. Sometimes all I can see is the down side, the deprivation, and my so-called mistakes. <br />What was funny about tonight's candlelight service was that at first I was enjoying it. I was inspired by the Christmas music and reveling like others in the congregation. But when the pastor, Rev. Brewer, got on the pulpit and started talking in his usual sensitive, loving, surrendering, submitting, open, vulnerable, generous peaceful voice about opening ourselves to the love of God, I found myself wanting to choke him. Because right now life is hard. It feels like the way I'm surviving from day to day is just by building a thick skin.<br />I don't blame God for what's happening to me now. I don't. But I also don't claim there's a purpose to it, or a reason. I believe God can help us make something good out of the situations we find ourselves in. And I do believe in submitting. But I also think that for a savior, he falls far short of my expectations on a regular basis. It's like that Tori Amos song, "God, sometimes you just don't come through." <br />In this season, the thing that gets to me most is the talk of Jesus as Savior. I think that title is the most annoying one of all of them. I can accept Son of God, but Savior at times annoys me even more because I don't see the evidence of his salvation. I think I've seen it in the past, but lately in my life, I have not seen it. Maybe that's the first part of the problem- my separation from the evidence. There may be some good evidence of where God's grace has indeed saved people. I wish somebody would show me the evidence.<br />I said it once before when I was living in DC, struggling with my faith. There was a song that came on with the lyric, "What I need to see is Jesus in the real world." Lord, give me eyes to see and ears to hear where you are making a difference, not just in charity but in justice, not just in words but in deeds, and not just in hope but in change. For I am impatient, justifiably so, given my short life. Give me reasons to believe, besides beautiful music on Sundays. Show me that that homeless man I see on 42nd Street every morning is going to be fine, and that predatory lending agency will be shut down. Show me your justice. And yes, please make me a channel of your peace.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-81619144072225468462009-11-22T18:36:00.000-08:002009-11-22T18:46:02.487-08:00Happy returnsFor the last few weeks, I've been finding myself a church home at Calvary Church, the Episcopal Church on Park Avenue, where I've found a good group of young Christians, compassionate, energized and open-minded. There was something else about today that woke me up from the slumber of "I want to die, I want to die..." I found myself seeing the pain of the homeless, but also the fact that there are many people passionate about being servants of the poor, and hopeful that there is a way to truly end poverty, or at least reduce it. There are those who realize that injustice need not be tolerated, and that there is a better way to live.<br />When I worked for St. Charles, it was partly about this wish to do justice and to live in community. And the ability to stand up for justice, even when you fail in your efforts, at least keeps you aware of where you stand. Lately, in trying to keep my job and my worries about my finances, I have not had time to even think about the fact that one of my greatest joys comes in service and working for justice.<br />All that Gospel talk penetrated, I guess.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-91258003647450887122009-09-27T20:14:00.000-07:002009-09-27T20:16:11.229-07:00WHAT'S WORTH CUTTING OFF?This evening, I returned to church at Church of the Ascension. It's only been three months since my last visit, but this summer has seen enough change that it felt like an eon. The Gospel tonight was Jesus’ advice to the disciples that they should “cut off” any part of them that causes them to stumble, whether an eye, a hand or a foot. It spoke to me about how important it is to Jesus that we learn to shed that which holds us back in our journey. There’s a real ruthlessness about that in the Gospel; he tells us to leave our possessions behind, take only the one cloak and walking stick, and “hate” our own families in order to follow him completely.<br /><br />I used to mock the Catholic fasting during Lent: I felt that if something was worth giving up for Lent, then why not give it up permanently? However, there’s something to their practice of sacrifice. We can’t be everything to everyone. And I do wonder what it is that might be holding me back from being completely loyal to my faith. If there was one thing I wish I could cut off, it would be my own anxiety and worry, which I believe causes me to stumble in my faith.<br /><br />“Be still and know that I am God,” I have heard, and I repeat that advice so often to myself when I am troubled. If I could cut off or shed any one thing, it would be that anxiety, and tendency towards easy distraction. I would pray that in learning to be still, I would find myself talking to God less and hearing Him more.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-12405328726834453612009-09-23T13:56:00.000-07:002009-09-23T14:08:19.979-07:00Faith in troubling timesI seem to be dropping off the mark recently. I apologize if this blog is turning into more of a diary, but I don't think it was my objective here to just be talking about faith issues in some academic/abstract sense. I meant to engage the stuff of staying alive in our faith, and living our lives with the strength and grace of God in us. So I consider my difficulties in doing that as important as my insights.<br /><br />I seem to be in a bit of a draining situation right now, where the job that I have satisfies me little and my home situation is rather isolated and often tense. I've worked since March at TeleNoticias, a Spanish-language PR firm, and I moved home to Hastings, initially in prep to leave the city for an internship in San Francisco. After realizing I had to turn that internship down because of its low stipend, I found myself in the uncomfortable situation of living at home with no sense of when I'd be out, while being at a job I wanted to leave.<br /><br />Since then, I've gotten significantly more depressed and tense, especially after my sister suffered another manic episode and was rehospitalized for the fourth time for her bipolar disorder. Since her release, my family's often been a battlefield between her need to be treated like an adult at 23, and my parents' desire to make sure she's not going to do herself any damage through excessive drinking or drugs. I've been in the middle of it, trying to be on everyone's side, which is kind of tough.<br /><br />Where is God in this? I reached out to NYU's Episcopal chaplain John Merz last Friday and we spoke about it. He's actually been in a similar situation in his own family: his older sister is bipolar and his anger/pain with her and his parents is very similar to my own, and more intense than mine. Merz suggested the important thing for me to do was to find a way to move out of my home. That's actually the same suggestion given by my priest, and my boss.<br /><br />I'm doing what I can in that regard, and in the meantime, trying to make sure I'm not getting fired from my job. It's very isolated work for me, being in an office all day by myself. My boss is helpful, but I can see he's growing frustrated with me as my questions are often vague. I think I'm giving him the impression that I don't understand very well what I'm doing, and that's often very true. <br /><br />Today, he told me that I needed to become more of a self-starter and if I see projects going on, not only ask if I can help, but know the details of projects from the checklists I've got and ask where he is on steps A,B,C and whether I can help on them or steps D,E,F. David very much wants detailed questions and detailed informed offers to support him. It's stressful for me, but I'll work to get better.<br /><br />I think God comes in forgiving myself for not being perfect, for being stressed, for being frustrated, and perhaps unprepared. God comes in helping me see that my work performance does not reflect my value as a man, and in remembering that my tense state of mind does not have to take over my soul as well. It's a damn tough thing to find balance when both work and home have the potential to drive you crazy, but I'm working at it. And I know that every glimmer of strength that comes through me is a gift from God.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-91479506933403500242009-09-16T07:05:00.000-07:002009-09-16T07:15:12.779-07:00Trials and troublesEver feel like you're just beset on all sides? That's how I'm feeling recently. My sister has been released from a mental hospital for the fourth time. My mother continues to be one of the most difficult people I have to deal with, especially because of her bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses I do not have the strength to go into here. My father suffers from depression, and now in the midst of my sister's illness and my mother's illness, and his own relative lack of work, he has been sinking. And I am only a man, able to do only so much without cracking.<br /><br />Now as my loans from grad school begin to mount up and I see the damage that I have done to myself, the debt I've accrued, I feel increasingly trapped. I will no longer be able to afford my health care that I just got, because thankfully my boss seems willing to increase my hours. Meanwhile, I'm not sure I can afford moving out of my parents' house because of the payments I have to make for my lonas, plus whatever health care I'll need to get. And even if I can move out, I don't think I'll be able to save too much money.<br /><br />Meanwhile, the job still sucks and I am sick right now, though it's just a minor head cold brought on by excess stress, lack of sleep, and bad air quality in my room. <br /><br />It is so difficult for me to move through the ordeals with any sense of peace. It is more like I try to escape the ordeals, get a momentary reprieve, and then feel like I'm right back in hell again. I so want to feel free, but living at home, working a job I don't like, and being in debt makes me feel so trapped.<br /><br />Every time I stop to pray, I don't feel like I'm doing it right. Or rather I feel it's not enough. And I honestly feel so overwhelmed by the burdens that I don't believe faith is enough. For I feel I lack some kind of wisdom about the world and how it works, and have made too many mistakes.<br /><br />Yet I'm only 30 years old. I wish I was feeling like my life was just getting started. I do not feel that sense of possibility and potential. I am more living in a state of regret, resentment, anger and pain, and I wish I could find relief.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-6445937781043458552009-08-08T19:55:00.000-07:002009-08-11T10:50:38.919-07:00A new opportunity, a new challengeDear readers,<br /><br />This week has presented me with a change in a once essential routine in my life: though I remain cautious, I'm also feeling optimistic about what might come next. <br /><br />Since 2005, I've been on medication for obsessive compulsive tendencies. Though it may have been lifelong, my OCD began showing itself more obviously back in 2002, after my sister had a nervous breakdown, was hospitalized and then diagnosed with bipolar disorder. It was a nervewracking experience for me: at the time I had recently moved to DC, was living on my own and knew very few people, while she and my family were here in NY.<br /><br />I entered therapy then and a lot of the talk was about feelings of insecurity about my identity and my future, and my family. Then in 2004, a college acquaintance of mine, Leah Deni, contracted a fatal staph infection, and despite weeks of prayer by me and many of her friends, she died within a few months. <br /><br />Leah's death began a new worry for me about germs and the prospect of dying young. I worried about not accomplishing everything I wanted to, and became increasingly paranoid about food surfaces, handwashing, stove burners, unlocked doors, germs from poor people (at the time I was doing social work), and contracting STDs and AIDS.<br /><br />In 2005, I finally accepted that medication could help me cope better, and I began taking Paxil. Over the years, it helped me let go of my worry, and surrender the need to be sure about things, to move forward by trusting my decisions and hoping for the best.<br /><br />This worked for years, despite tough times economically and socially. <br /><br />However, this year since getting my current part-time job and graduating from NYU, I began to find myself in a depression. I'm 30 years old, working part-time, living at home, and still often split over which of my passions is the one to go after. I know reporting is my biggest interest, for example, but I still can't figure out whether the arts or local reporting is a better fit.<br /><br />This summer, I entered a dire obsessive thought process often thinking, "God, I want to kill myself," when leaving work. These thoughts kept on repeating, as often happens with OCD. So my psychiatrist switched me to a medication called Zoloft, a similar anti-anxiety drug but one with more anti-depressant force. Zoloft helped at first, but when I recently got a virus, I found all it did was make my heart beat faster while I remained tired and out of sorts.<br /> <br />And so last week when I got my antibiotic and meds for my infection, I got an odd piece of advice from my psychiatrist: stop taking the psych meds altogether for now. In his words, "Go back to NOTHING." <br /><br />This is the first week since 2005 that I haven't taken a single psychiatric medication to maintain myself, and overall, I feel damn proud and happy. While I was ashamed at first of taking psychiatric medication, that eventually just became a wonder on my part as to if and when I might be able to no longer need them. The only answer that ever made sense to me came from my friend Katie who said it would probably be when things were "stable" enough in my life. That's certainly not the case now externally, but maybe it is the case for me internally.<br /><br />So, I have an appointment with my psychiatrist this Thursday, and I'm planning to ask to remain off medication. This week has made me believe I'm ready to give it a try.<br /><br />I ask for your prayers for that meeting. And meanwhile I give thanks to God, because this week has given me a new sense of inner confidence. <br /><br />For some of us, psychiatric medication may always be a necessity, and there is no shame in that. However, if I am able to live my life without it, I am all the more grateful. <br /><br />I'll let you know what happens, and in the meantime, I wish you all the best.<br /><br />God bless,<br />DanDaniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-70959405885676224892009-08-02T12:04:00.000-07:002009-08-02T12:23:07.438-07:00Back to meDear readers,<br /><br /> For a while now, this blog's been on hold for a few reasons. 1.I didn't feel I had anything to add about Christian thought. Lately my mind's been on a lot of other things. <br /> I was planning to move to San Francisco for an internship with a television station called LinkTV, but I cancelled it after I budgeted and realized I wouldn't have enough money to support myself and there were too many variables for me to take the risk in a city where I hardly knew anyone.<br /> Then there's prescriptions. Last month I grew increasingly depressed at my part-time job with Telenoticias USA. It's a desk job with a Spanish PR company, and though my boss is nice, I'm alone, there's little work, and I feel meaningless when there. It led me into a nasty depression, and my psychiatrist switched me to Zoloft, a pill which helps with anxiety but also is an anti-depressant.<br /> With that, my continuing job search and my move back home to save cash, I haven't been thinking much about God. But I think I made an error in conceiving this blog as only being thoughts about him: lately I have been struggling for faith in myself and my future, and that struggle is as relevant as the search for God, as well as linked to it.<br /> I have become increasingly cynical and hopeless about my future, and ambivalent about the best road to take when it comes to my career choices. Although I know journalism is still my favorite subject, I can no longer figure out whether it's entertainment journalism or social issues journalism that I should go after.<br /> In the meantime, I have hardly gone to church at all. I've tried a new Episcopal church in the city called Calvary Episcopal which has drawn me in, but their services exhaust me, with long 20-minute sermons, long chanting and singing sessions, and an emphasis on personal devotion that's been draining. There, it seems that I found almost TOO much Jesus, where in other churches I'd been struggling to find enough.<br /> I'm thinking about going back there this evening, and in the meantime, I have been considering moving into a Christian intentional community called <a href="radicallivingnyc.org">Radical Living</a>, in order to be closer to my faith and to live in community. Living with my parents in the suburbs is isolating and stressful for me, even though the scenery here in Westchester is lush compared to the Brooklyn streets.<br /> I'm longing these days to feel close to God again, but lately when I feel most at peace, I find myself most at odds with my current environment. I find my parents' bickering painful, and my sister's on-the-go sass stresses me out. <br /> The struggle for me is to remain hopeful as things stand, and to remember how blessed I truly am. Slowing down and accepting things as they are takes work, but that is exactly where God, my Lord and Savior, comes in. I do not need to do this work alone, and I ask not to have to. The book of Matthew reads, "Come to me all who are weary," and tonight I will come to Him and hope to begin to be renewed.<br /> As the weeks go on, I will treat this as much as a journal of my struggles towards hope and faith as a place for thoughts on God. I welcome your feedback and would love to share your journey as well. Take care, and God bless.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-12891488866140163552009-06-28T18:36:00.000-07:002009-06-28T19:37:59.735-07:00To what degree do we let go?I was reading a New York Times article a while back about Suze Orman, and while I enjoyed a lot of her advice, her thoughts on the importance of money above all else seemed quite at odds with my Christianity. Orman tells the story often about how their house was burning down and after getting them all out, he ran back in to grab their money. He came back out with a metal chest and the skin on his arms had grafted onto the sides of the chest. Orman said the lesson she learned was that money, making it, having it, taking care of yourself financially, was as important as life itself.<br /><br />Then I think of the Sermon on the Mount (a paraphrase):<br />"Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what you<br /> shall eat, or what you shall drink; nor yet for your body, what you<br /> shall put on...<br />Consider the lilies of the field; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you that Solomon in all of his glory was never clothed as richly as one of these. Therefore, if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today exists, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?"<br /><br />In our economic crisis, Jesus' promises seem a bit hollow. Maybe if our society had followed a more Christian economic model rather than giving massive sub-prime mortgages, we wouldn't need to worry and could trust in God to keep us stable.<br /> <br />But we live in a capitalist economy, run by many who misheard Jesus as saying, "Seek ye first the kingdom of Gold." As for the rest of us, society demands we work, but often neglects many who do their share, ending up without healthcare, shelter, food, security, in spite of hard labor. And to add to that, sometimes even the work we have is not guaranteed.<br /><br />So can I or any of us really surrender completely and expect God to clothe us, shelter us and feed us? When we know homeless shelters have to turn people away, and food banks often shut down? The current climate seems more to call for vigilance, the same vigilance towards money that Jesus called for towards the day of judgment. We must be on watch, ready for our job to end, our bank to close, or our savings to disappear like a thief in the night.<br /><br />I personally don't trust Jesus to calm all the storms alone: I believe it's up to me too. I have to work and watch how I spend my money, and maybe take a second job that would end up giving me less time to be with family and friends or pray.<br /><br />Yet at the same time, part of my struggle is based on a vision of my life, set by this same worldly society : I want to be a successful well-reputed journalist, living in a place of my own, with savings, the ability to travel, the occasional luxury, and a way to support myself, along with maybe a partner and kids someday. If I was willing to surrender those ambitions for the kingdom of God, perhaps I could trust the Gospel's words.<br /><br />I would never surrender the call to be a journalist or to explore and travel. Those are passions that I believe God has given me. Many of the others though have been given me by society as definitions of success: maybe shedding that is what Jesus was calling for when he talked about not worrying about our lives.<br /><br />I don't think God is calling for me to be miserable either. Jesus lived amongst the people and enjoyed their company: he drank the fine wine, healed on the Sabbath. He lived life richly. Perhaps it's holy to seek that, while rejecting the notions that the only way to that richness is through money.<br /><br />I wish one of the Beatitudes said, "Blessed are those who seek a rich life rather than a life of wealth, for theirs is the kingdom of God."<br />Or that there was a commandment like "Boast of no financial success, and seek only to take care of yourself, your loved ones, and those in need."<br /><br />I guess it comes down to how much I'm willing to let go of to bring Christ in, if I truly believe that he can work in my life when I let him.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-87935828718204094622009-06-24T07:24:00.000-07:002009-06-24T07:37:42.081-07:00Is anger at panhandlers justifiable?Dear all,<br /><br /> Lately I find myself getting fed up with panhandlers, not with the act of panhandling itself but with their pleading. There's an old black man outside Grand Central every day who sits curled up on a bucket, hunched over and shaking, pleading "Pleeease! Pleease!" like a freezing man begging for shelter. <br /> I help him sometimes out of guilt, but yesterday after putting some change in his cup, I said, "You're out here EVERY SINGLE DAY like this!" He told me that he couldn't get over his mother's death and that all he wants is to really go back to work. I didn't really buy it honestly. I think for me the pleading eventually feels like the boy who cried wolf: a constant emergency begins to feel like no emergency at all. And if every day is the same, then what's the sense of helping him at all?<br /> I don't know how Jesus would have responded to this: he was great at healing people and calling for support to the poor, but I don't remember many instances of him helping beggars financially. Heck, he didn't have a lot of money to begin with! <br /> I always remember that moment when the woman spent her money to make him (perfume? was it?) and the disciples protested that the money could have been spent on the poor. Jesus said "The poor you will always have with you," but that he was only going to be there for a while. Some might use that phrase to dismiss working for the poor, but I think it was just meant to say that worship of God and Jesus must come first in all our endeavors. <br /> My anger towards that man begins with the fact that he is breaking my heart and the sneaking suspicion that he is taking advantage of my compassion. Perhaps, there is no way around it but to admit that anger and help anyway. Or perhaps it is better to give my money to a cause that makes a bigger difference and then give the man a referral to it: maybe that'd be a bit more of the "arise and walk" response, leaving him the choice to make himself well.<br /> I welcome your thoughts.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-51058405426020244292009-06-19T07:02:00.000-07:002009-06-19T07:13:06.974-07:00Fire and glueDear all,<br /><br /> Last Sunday, I slept in and missed the 11 am service at Judson Memorial Church, a church I had tried down by NYU. After waking up at noon, I headed to my sister's improv performance downtown, and afterwards my family and I had an early dinner. After leaving the restaurant, I began the walk home and on top of feeling achy, I began feeling a desire to be in a church, to pray and connect with the presence of God. Luckily, I found Calvary Episcopal, a church in the Flatiron District that was perfect. The 6 pm service was just getting out and there was time to relax, and spend some time praying. <br /> I have a lot on my mind now as I prepare to move to San Francisco, to leave my family, the small group of friends I've made, my church group, and other support networks, therapist, gym, etcetera. I can feel the tension rising in me quite often. In these moments, prayer truly does settle me.<br /> I've gone back to reading Ronald Rolheiser's book "The Holy Longing" a kind of how-to about preserving a Christian spirituality in modern America. It's a good read and one of the things Rolheiser says that's really stuck with me is that the soul is both fire and glue. It is what inspires us to action and what holds us together in chaos. As I get closer to leaving, I keep on thinking about that balance, keeping life both on fire and glued, stable but inspired. I'm someone who tends to overthink things, so I could analyze that idea for days. Yet, it's still worth keeping in mind.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-56488359744418270742009-06-10T07:10:00.000-07:002009-06-19T07:20:02.055-07:00"A Life Apart: Hasidim in America"Dear all,<br /><br /> Over the weekend I went cycling in my area of Brooklyn. The weather was wonderful, 70 degrees and sunny, a light breeze floating through town. I took my bike down through Greenpoint and criscrossed Williamsburg from north to south, ending in Clinton Hill. On my way there and back, I entered the Hasidic neighborhoods of South Williamsburg a few times. <br /> The Hasidim here seem to live in an enclave: one street I went on near Clinton Hill was a one way street flanked with matching apartment buildings, all belonging to Hasids. The kids played in the street, usual stuff, bikes and balls, while the parents watched them from their apartments. They almost all spoke in Hebrew, not English. <br /> At one point, being my gregarious self, I passed a Hasid boy on a bicycle, and I said, "Hey there." He looked at me a bit like I was from outer space. This is a reaction I'm not unfamiliar with: there seems to always be a bit of distaste, resentment, or maybe fear when it comes to interacting with us goyim, especially the goyim in shorts and T-shirts riding through their enclave, breaking so many taboos of modesty in our dress.<br /> That night after riding home, I watched a documentary from the 90s on Hasidic life in America, called "A Life Apart," which mostly looked at Brooklyn's Hasidic tribes. The doc noted about 5 main tribes in Brooklyn, the Lubavitch (many in Crown Heights), the Satmar, Bobov, Skver, and one other I can't recall...<br /> From what I gathered, the Hasidim are separate from the rest of orthodox Judaism in that they have put study of the Torah above all other things in their lives, rejecting university and college studies because they would challenge and poison their spiritual practice. Hasidim can pursue careers in business, or in teaching at Orthodox schools, but not in any field that requires professionalization like medicine, law, or politics.<br /> I don't know what the Hasidim think of Matisyahu, or Matthew Miller, the Orthodox Jew reggae singer from Crown Heights. Apparently, Matisyahu still makes his home there among the Hasidim with his wife and child even though he's confessed to feeling "boxed in" by Hasidic enclaves. In 2004, when asked about how he viewed his music in light of his religious practice, Matisyahu said, "The rabbi would like me to be in Crown Heights, sitting in yeshiva and learning more," Matisyahu confesses. "But right now my energy is in music. I have a way to affect people and uplift them. To give that up is to go against what God wants."<br /> The funny thing is that the documentary talks about how joy is at the core of the Hasidic lifestyle, yet that joy is seldom evident when the Hasids see us goys. Whether it's their disgust at our lifestyle, fear that they'd be tained with interaction with us, there's very often a sense of just barely tolerating us. Yet if their lifestyle is all about joy, why shouldn't more of them be expressing their differences with us through joyous prayers, like the Hare Krishnas or the Mennonite choirs I see in Union Square? Strange that the Hasidim keep that joy locked inside the closed doors of their synagogues...the documentary reveals them in song and dance, loving their children, dancing like fools and madmen (in a good way), and yet in public life they seem all business.<br /> I guess I wish the Hasidim didn't see me and the rest of America as part of the big "treyfe medina," a land of defilement, inhospitable to people of faith. Until then, I'll continue riding my bike through their neighborhoods, with a smile on my face, despite the blank stares and downcast faces that often greet me.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5125979607927172067.post-5995926665926250912009-06-07T17:07:00.000-07:002009-06-07T18:30:07.436-07:00For tomorrowI will make my weekly entry tomorrow morning. I have pushed my wrists too far tonight clinging to my bike handles through my rides in Brooklyn, and need to rest them up. But tomorrow I will write of my impressions riding through the Hasidim community of South Williamsburg.Daniel Marrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17812042284131800755noreply@blogger.com0